


If home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked.

by hmariex



Category: Fall Out Boy, patrick stump - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmariex/pseuds/hmariex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>"I feel at home with you,<br/>like I have everything to lose.<br/>And yeah, maybe love makes us crazy,<br/>but for you, I'd risk the world, baby."</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't let me be lonely.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Okay, seriously this is my first fanfic since I was about 17 (I'm 21 now), so don't be super cruel, deal?<3  
> Obviouly this is more of an intro than a chapter, but it leads into the story. :)

I love him, I do. I love the giggles in the dark. I love the wildflowers he picks on the side of the road, and the coke bottles he brings them home in. I love the post-it notes he leaves on the mirror, telling me I'm beautiful. I love the polaroid camera he keeps on the night stand, always snapping pictures of us first thing in the morning. I love his smile when he's happy, and his annoyed face when he's angry. I love every atom of him, of us. Our relationship is the most beauitful and wonderful thing in my life. 

If you had told me ten years ago that Patrick and I would be where we are today, I would have laughed in your face, as cliche' as it sounds. I would have told you that you were wrong because we intended on living a very normal, very boring life. We'd finish boring college with our boring degrees, and we'd live happily bored.  Forever. That was our plan at 19. 

You could say I was wrong. Patrick started playing in a band. A band that people took more and more interest in with every song they played. It wasn't long til I was laying on my couch studying for the last final of my college career and Patrick was playing a sold out Madison Sqaure. Talk about a 3/60. I finished college with a degree in Human Resources and he got a degree in teeange girls. 

It wasn't until the hiatus that things finally started to return to the way things were when they were just playing instruments in a garage and bars. He was finally back in Chicago permentaly. Not just until the next gig, the next 9 month tour. His tshirts hung loosely by mine again in the closet. My bed became our bed again. His shampoo messily sat next to mine in the shower. We were finally making a home for ourselves. And even though he still had side projects, he was home almost every single night. 

The paparazzi are what I hate the most. Before the hiatus, when Patrick was home, we couldn't go anywhere without being photographed. The fans weren't all bad, but a lot of them weren't fans of mine. Everything I did was a waste of time, and apparently I lived off the fame and the money that came with dating Patrick. That was something I could never get used to. The fame or the money. Everyone knowing my boyfriends name was weird. A lot of people knowing my name was even more weird. Patrick being able to buy me nice presents was weird. For my 21st birthday, he bought me a new car. For our 6 year aviversary, he bought us a house. It was all so much, that I had the beg him to stop buying big things to please me; that the little things was all I cared about. 

Everything was normal, until the phone call he'd gotten on a Wednesday night. I had got home from the grocery store, fumbling to put the keys on the stand by the door. I peeked into the kitchen when I heard Patrick laugh. He was sitting on the island, his phone pressed to his ear. 

"Yeah, man that sounds awesome.." He glanced up and saw the bags in my hands. He hopped up and grabbed them from me, flashing me a quick smile. I returned the grin as he spun back around, starting to put away the groceries. 

"Gabby is home, so I'll talk to her about it. Yeah, I'll tell her for you. Later." He put his phone down and pulled me into a hug, kissing my head. 

"So, I've got some news." He started, and my stomach clenched. I knew what "news" usually meant. He was leaving for something somewhere. 

"Oh yeah? Am I going to like this news?" I stole a look at him and could tell he was nervous.

"Well, to start out, Pete says hi.."


	2. That's right, be afraid Wentz. It's not looking good for you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feedbaaaack is always nice <3 

We were cuddled up on the couch watching an old episode of Recess when Patrick finally broke the silence that had been plaguing us since he said Pete's name. 

"Gabs, it's nothing major. He just wants to show me some stuff he wrote, maybe lay down a track or two. Just kinda for old times sake thing, you know?" He was rubbing circles on my side as I breathed in.  
"Laying down tracks for fun was how Soul Punk happened.. I'm not upset about it Patrick, I just don't want you to be gone all the time again.. I hate being in this huge house alone. You know that." I shifted around so I could look at him instead of the tv. "I just don't want you to leave me again."

"Well Meagan loves you, so come with me. You could use some girl time. It'd only be a couple days.. We can celebrate your 30th-"

"27th." I cut him off with a smile. My 30th birthday was next week, but for the past three years, I've been holding on to 27. 

He laughed and put his arms around my waist, squeezing me lightly. "So you'll come?"

I kissed him in response which he quickly returned. His fingers dug a little harder into my side causing me to flush a deep red. Even ten years later, Patricks touch still made me blush. I couldn't believe this was my life, my fiance'. Even if things go back to chaos, I was in for the ride this time. I wouldn't sit at home while he saw every city, or beautiful country. I wouldn't sit on the sidelines this time. I was in the game no matter what. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hate planes. I hate the rocking feeling when the engine starts. I hate the roar of take-off. I hate it all more than anyone couldn't comprehend. I find myself doubting my decision to take off to LA more and more with every passing second. 

"Anything to drink?" The flight attendant was a fan, an obvious one with her lack of going anywhere Patrick wasn't. It was sweet, she was sweet. And she noticed I existed, something a lot of other fans didn't do.  
"I will take the strongest thing you have." I put my head in my lap as she laughed a little and went to get my drink. Patrick took my hand.

"Gabby, you hype yourself up babe. It's fine, we're almost in the air. We will be there in three hours, you can do this." He whispered, kissing my head. 

"I just want to sleep. Will you grab my bag, please?" He nodded softly, grabbing my purse and going through it, grabbing my anxiety medicine that quickly puts me out. 

"Gabs.. Babe, wake up." I shook my head, pulling the tiny blanket over my face and leaning onto Patricks shoulder. He chuckled and it made me smile. Once again, I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to get to hear that every day. I kissed his shoulder and opened my eyes.

"Hey, we're here.." He nuzzled his head into my neck as I sat up. "I love you so much. Thank you for coming with me. I hate being away from you."

"All I know is if I'm celebrating my birthday in LA, it better be perfect. Tell Pete that I expect nothing less than perfection, and he better deliver or else you're never allowed to see or speak to him ever again.." He laughed at my faux demands, however the attendant who just happened to walk up during my little fake speech didn't find it as funny. Her liking me didn't last long at all. I could place money on a bet that my speech would be on the internet within the next 24 hours. 

"The rockstars girlfriend makes demands."

"I was joking..." I muttered, putting my borrowed items on the cart as she walked off. "Your fans hate that I exist, you do know that, right?" 

"They don't hate you, they hate that they aren't you. There's a difference. It's all so silly."

I roll my eyes a second time, not really seeing the difference. Either way, I'm not liked. Which isn't something I enjoy. I'm not the kinda person who can take criticism well. A few years ago, rumors swirled that we had broken up, and all the messages boards were going insane with celebration. That killed me. I sat in our house and I cried and cried until Patrick came home, and assured me that everything was fine. I knew he didn't involve himself into that kind of stuff. He often jokes about being the worst "celebrity" ever. Which is pretty true, he won't even google himself. 

The plane landed with only a few minor bumps, but even those threw me into rolls of nausea. Meagan and Pete met us at the terminal, waves of people stopping to take photos, but none of them actually speaking to us. I almost prefer them talking with their mouths instead of their fingers. Harder to be rude in person than behind a keyboard. 

"Gabby Elaine!" Pete picked me up in a bear hug, "You look beautiful. Are you excited to be back in LA?"

I nudged him jokingly in the ribs and returned the hug before moving over to Meagan, "You know I hate this place, Pete. I've made a list of demands for you for this trip, I'll let Patrick give you the gory details." Pete gave me a cheeky grin, and exchanged a look with Patrick. Patrick shook his head, smiling back at Pete.

"That's right, be afraid Wentz. It's not looking good for you.."


End file.
